✻|| 𝓡𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮 ||✶ - 鬼滅の刃

【𝓖𝓲𝔂𝓾𝓾】

↠Modern AU
↠Fluff
↠Fem Reader

Word Count - 769
Cafuné - Published 11/19/20

Cafuné: running your fingers through the hair of someone you love
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"Why are you awake?"

Lifting your eyes from the tattered book in your hands, pages yellowing and sandpapery beneath your fingertips and its leather spine cracked from age, the tall figure looming at the end of the hallway caught your attention. Yet that blatant tone of his hadn't really bothered you, because despite the sudden interruption you were willing to halt your reading even if you were at the best part of your story.

Thumbing through the rest of the chapter, you slid the makeshift bookmark you had back in its position, before fully shifting your focus solely on the man before you. Just barely over his shoulder could you see the dim glow of the kitchen stove, its digital clock harboring a time way past midnight.

It was such a blissful curse that you could fall so deeply in a novel—until now, that is.

"I could ask you the same. Don't you have work tomorrow?"

The figure at the hall had still remained a darkened shadow in your blurry vision, standing stiff like a predator eyeing its oblivious prey. It wasn't the least bit unnerving for you however, because you had quickly gotten used to the man's silent and awkward nature. He wasn't one of many words to begin with, so you were surprised by an actual response.

A soft hum echoed from the dark hall, your eyes finally adjusting to the darkness of your living room, catching each shadowed hue of the man and his growing lazy composure. Truthfully, you half-expected him to turn back down the corridor to the bedroom and fall back into a deep sleep with not another sound, but with each passing second he remained still, eyeing you with an unreadable expression.

Frowning at his hesitance, you shifted to lean against the edge of the couch you had been sitting on, propping your elbows up against the armrest to get a closer peek at him. Now you could just faintly see his clearing visage. His ocean eyes seemed so dull. "Giyuu, what's wrong?"

Watching him tiredly stumble into the dim room with you, you were about to jump up and usher your lover back to bed before he plopped himself down beside you. And instantly did his head fall against your lap, those hazy eyes falling shut.

"You weren't coming to bed."

All traces of previous worry melted away that instant, and giggling at the attention-seeking side of the man did you give in to the moment. Resting a hand atop his still head, you gently ran your fingers through his messy locks while leaning back into your previous comfortable position.

The warming weight pressed against your thighs blossomed a weak sensation along your form, his slowing soft breaths fanning your skin. Just staring at the man made you feel tired, yet the book resting on the small coffee table beckoned you to turn its pages once more.

So leaning down to ghost a kiss to his forehead, you felt the man curl up closer to your lap, releasing a heavy sigh at the feel of your fingers trailing to the back of his neck. There was no need for any words, because the heavy silence filled Giyuu's chest until his mind wandered back to the forgotten realm of dreams.

The faint rustling of your book failed to reach his ears, lost among the other miniscule sounds that filled the room around you. When you had later turned the page to glance down at him, he was already long gone at the simple feel of you laying with him.

At this point it was far too late in the night—or morning, to haul his dead weight back to your shared room, so you settled deeper into the cushions behind you. There was no doubt that you'd both feel stiff and drowsy in the morning due to the lack of a proper bed, but this moment was far too perfect to interrupt.

Mulling over the simple events from the past minutes, you shook your head while glancing down at the book in your hand. Now, such carefully crafted words read so weak, because the mere act of running your fingers through this man's tangled hair was such a simple story you'd much rather reread over and over for the rest of your lifetime.

Closing your eyes, you imagined how the words would piece themselves together, painting such a simple notion as the most wonderful story of them all.

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